


Or Marmosets and Men

by NyteFlyer



Category: Donald Strachey Mysteries (Movies)
Genre: AU, Canon Gay Relationship, Humor, M/M, faerie tale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-01-20
Packaged: 2017-11-26 06:00:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/647350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NyteFlyer/pseuds/NyteFlyer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time, in a far away land known as Albany….</p>
            </blockquote>





	Or Marmosets and Men

　

Once Upon A Time, in a far away land known as Albany, there lived a handsome politician known as Saint Timmy the Good. Timmy was as intelligent as he was handsome, and he had a kind and loving heart, but it beat for one man alone, and that was his husband, Sir Donald the Brave. Donald loved Timmy fiercely and well, and the two of them worked very hard together to build a good life. They lived in a fixer-upper house with a big fireplace and a leaky roof, and they sometimes had to sleep with a pan in the bed to catch the rain. There wasn’t always enough money to go around, and they sometimes worried about how the repairs would be made or if the bills would be paid. But it really didn’t matter. Donald brought Timmy flowers at the end of the day, and they danced together in the firelight before bed. They held each other in the night, snug in each other’s arms, Timmy petting Donald’s golden hair as Donald gently stroked Timmy’s cheek with restless fingers. They felt safe and warm in their fixer-upper house with the big fireplace and the leaky roof, and they were happy.

Donald’s love was a special gift in Timmy’s life, and he treasured it always. But Timmy had another gift as well, and that was The Gift of Understanding. He knew that although Donald was quick-witted and strong, he sometimes felt things that were too big to express. So Timmy learned to listen with his heart as well as his ears, and whenever Donald felt Something Big, Timmy heard him and understood. 

One day, Donald was hired by a very angry and vengeful man called RutKa, who wreaked havoc wherever he went. RutKa was a Bitter Deceiver who used Donald as a pawn in his game of deceit, so when he stole off to Foreign Lands, Timmy and Donald were both glad to see him go. But what they didn’t realize was that RutKa was a powerful magician and a jealous one, and he coveted The Gift of Understanding that Donald and Timmy shared. Eventually, RutKa’s boyfriend, Loyal Eddie the Dense, became tired of the magician’s bitterness and deceptions and left him for a gentle-eyed boy whose only magic was that he had a loving heart. They ran off to a tropical island somewhere, and to this day they can be found there still, swimming in the surf and making love on the beach, truly living Happily Ever After. 

From the day Eddie left, however, RutKa’s bitterness grew, and he coveted more and more The Gift of Understanding that Donald and Timmy shared. Because he could not stand to see such happiness in the world when he had none, he began to work magic from afar, spying on them through his Crystal Candy Dish and casting spells to bring hardship into their lives. Timmy’s SUV broke down and he had to take the bus to work. Donald was shot by a client’s wife and nearly died -- though of course Timmy’s love pulled him through! Repairs weren’t made and bills went unpaid. Their little dog, Watson, was hit by a car. Still, Donald and Timmy had each other and The Gift of Understanding. They still held each other in the night, feeling safe and warm in their fixer-upper house with the big fireplace and the leaky roof, and they were happy.

The longer RutKa watched them, the more jealous and angry he became. How dare they still be happy when he was not? How dare they share warmth and comfort and love when he had none? Finally, he could stand it no longer. He sent his Shadow into their house one morning after Timmy had left for work and found Donald still in bed, caressing Timmy’s pillow in his sleep with restless fingers. In Shadow Form he loomed over Donald, hating him and the Gift of Understanding he and Timmy shared, and became determined to end that Understanding once and for all. Swelling with a rage that grew so dark and fearsome it blocked out every glimmer of light in the room, he cast A Great and Terrible Spell, muttering:

Too clever for his own good, this detective may be  
Quick and agile as a monkey, he  
So let the outside reflect what lies within  
And see how well Timmy understands him then!

When Timmy came home from work that evening, he was glad to see Donald’s car parked outside. He thought pleasant thoughts of a long night spent together, dancing in the firelight and making love in their warm bed. But when he stepped inside and called Donald’s name, there was no answer. Everything looked the same as it had that morning, but everything suddenly felt terribly wrong. 

“Donald?” Timmy called, still clutching his briefcase in his right hand. “Donald? Honey, please answer me!” But the only response was a soft scuffling sound behind him. Spinning, he looked down to see a tiny, golden-haired monkey crouching on the floor by his feet. It was wearing one of Donald’s ugliest ties!

Timmy couldn’t help laughing at the sight. “Hello, little monkey,” he said. “What are you doing here?” Then the monkey gazed up at him with sky blue eyes -- a color you generally do not see in monkeys! -- and reached out with both hands. 

“EeeeepEeeeep,” it chirped softly. “Eeeeeeeeep.”

Timmy thought that must certainly be the saddest sound ever a monkey could make. And because he had the Gift of Understanding, he heard that soft, sad sound with his heart as well as his ears, and his briefcase hit the floor with a THUD!

“Donald!” Timmy cried, scooping Donaldmonkey off the floor and cuddling him close. “Oh, baby, what happened to you? How long have you been like this? And why in the world are you wearing that awful tie but no pants?”

“Eeeeep,” Donaldmonkey replied in his soft, sad voice. “Eeeeeeeep!” Timmy continued to listen with his heart as well as his ears, nodding and petting Donaldmonkey’s soft golden fur, and he heard and understood.

At heart, Timmy had always been a very practical man. “When we find RutKa, we’ll make him change you back,” he said at last, “but until then, we have to make sure you’re taken care of properly.” So he made a loincloth for Donaldmonkey out of a pair of his own good linen handkerchiefs, for even a small monkey must be decently dressed if he is to appear in public, after all. With a pair of scissors, he snipped off the end of the dangling tie so it would no longer get tangled with Donaldmonkey’s feet. Then Timmy tucked Donaldmonkey into the breast of his suit jacket so he would feel warm and safe next to him, and they went out.

Their first stop was at a children’s clothing store, where they purchased two pair of the tiniest preemie-sized jeans they could find, plus a few tee shirts -- one with a red race car on it, because the colors matched the stripes in Donaldmonkey‘s tie. After that, they found a pet store that specialized in exotic animals and left with two large shopping bags filled with canned marmoset food. Finally, they stopped by the grocery, buying apples and oranges and bananas and grapes for Donaldmonkey and a pre-made salad for Timmy. As they drove past Taco Bell on the way home, Donaldmonkey became very excited, jumping up and down in his seat and pointing..

“Eeeeeeep!” said Donaldmonkey, pressing his face against the window glass. “EeeeeeeepEeeeepEeeeeeeeeeeep!”

Timmy kept driving. “We’ll eat when we get home,” he said firmly. “You know that place always gives you gas. Besides, monkeys don’t eat tacos.”

Donaldmonkey chirped in protest.

“Not burritos or Nachos Bell Grande, either,” Timmy said. “And before you ask, Mexican pizza is definitely out of the question as well. The man at the pet store said you’re a Golden Lion Tamarin, and that you need to eat fruit and lizards and bugs. I won’t have you eating insects, at least not in front of our friends, and we’ll have to have a long talk about the lizard issue. But you can have all the fruit you want, and we have all these nice cans of marmoset food. I know how hungry you must be, so I’ll warm up a can for you as soon as we get home. Unless you’d rather eat it cold?”

Slumping down in his seat, Donaldmonkey crossed his furry arms across his chest and chittered mournfully. 

“You’ll just have to get used to it,” Timmy said. “Unless we can find RutKa and convince him to reverse this spell, I have a feeling there are a lot of changes you’re going to have to get used to. We both are.”

The next morning, Timmy called the senator and told her he wouldn’t be in the office until noon. He and Donaldmonkey ate a long, leisurely breakfast together, sharing a big bowl of fresh fruit and a few strips of bacon, which Timmy thought might be a reasonable substitute for lizards, at least for the time being. Once they were done, he dressed Donaldmonkey in his new jeans and race car shirt, then added the snipped-off tie, thinking that it made him look quite professional. He took him to the veterinarian‘s office, holding his paw and murmuring reassurances as Donaldmonkey endured the indignity of having his temperature taken with a thermometer that was not of the oral variety. Dr. Morgan checked his heart and teeth, then palpitated his abdomen and checked his reflexes. When he was done, he suggested a rabies vaccination. Donaldmonkey chattered unhappily when he saw the needle, but he held onto Timmy’s finger and made it through the shot without squirming once. When he was done, Dr. Morgan gave him a slice of apple as a reward.

“A pity about your little dog,” Dr. Morgan told Timmy, “but you have a fine, healthy monkey here. I never would have pegged you as a monkey man, but I’m sure he’ll be wonderful company for you on those nights when your partner…Ronald, is it?…works those long hours you’ve told me about. He’s a detective, I believe?”

“Private investigator,” Timmy corrected. “His name is Donald. And Dr. Morgan, this monkey is my husband.”

Dr. Morgan laughed merrily. “Considering the long hours I put in here, I’m sure my wife feels the same way about our French poodle, Pierre. I can’t imagine what Ronald would think of the comparison, though. Now, I see no sign of parasitic infection in your little friend here, but I would recommend a routine worming, just to be on the safe side.”

Raising his voice slightly to be heard over Donaldmonkey’s indignant chirping, Timmy said, “I think we’ll skip the worming, if you don’t mind. He may not be much of a housekeeper, but his personal hygiene has always been impeccable. I can assure you that he’s quite clean, both inside and out.”

“Well, as long as you’re willing to take the risk,” the vet said, scribbling on their chart. “And speaking of risks, I notice he hasn’t been altered. We’re running a special on spaying and neutering this month, you know. My receptionist can set up an appointment for you today, if you like. Or if you’d rather discuss it with Ronald first, I can give you a coupon for fifteen percent off that‘s good until the end of June….”

With a muffled shriek, Donaldmonkey scrambled up Timmy’s arm and disappeared inside his jacket. Timmy could feel him shaking in there, plucking at his chest with restless monkey fingers. 

“Donald,” Timmy said evenly. “Not Ronald. Donald. And I wouldn’t dream of having him altered. I was being quite serious, Dr. Morgan. This monkey is my husband!”

“Of course he is,” Dr. Morgan said, writing another note on their chart. But he watched Timmy out of the corner of his eye, just the same.

After they left Dr. Morgan, Timmy dropped Donaldmonkey by his office with a promise to pick him up at 5:30 before he continued on to work. They were going to have to do something about the car situation. Timmy’s SUV wouldn’t be drivable until they could save enough money for a new transmission, and while he could easily take the bus, Donaldmonkey quite obviously could not. He’d simply have to keep chauffeuring them both around town in Donald’s old car until they figured something out. Perhaps with a tall enough booster seat and extra-long extensions for the gas pedal and brake, Donaldmonkey might be able to….

As Timmy worried about their transportation problem, Donaldmonkey spent the afternoon on the computer, emailing his contacts in Foreign Lands and doing research, trying to find out where RutKa might be. To his delight, he found that his keyboarding speed had nearly doubled since he could type now with his toes as well as his fingers, and he thought that once he located RutKa, his newfound agility and climbing skills might come in handy. Still, he missed his old body and would be glad to have it back again. Though his typing speed was at an all-time high and he could text like a demon, he found life considerably more difficult without opposable thumbs and was disappointed to discover that, in spite of what he’d always been led to believe, not all monkeys have prehensile tails after all. He missed tacos and his morning coffee, and he missed feeling solid and strong enough to be protective of Timmy. He couldn’t wait to find RutKa so things could go back to the way they were before. 

But RutKa, the old Deceiver, was using A Charm of Hiding, and he could not be found. 

As time went by, Timmy and Donaldmonkey adjusted to the way things were -- at least in most ways. Donaldmonkey still took pictures of cheating housewives and solved the occasional mystery, though he relied on the computer to deliver his findings rather than doing it face-to-face. Timmy still dragged him to political functions and swore he looked quite handsome in the little tuxedo their friend Zachary, who was a tailor, had made especially for him. They still had dinner with friends, and if anyone noticed The Change, they were too polite to comment on it. Donaldmonkey still gave Timmy flowers -- though he had to pick them out of the garden now instead of buying them, because most florists in the land of Albany hesitate to do business with tiny, golden-haired monkeys -- and they still danced in the firelight before bed. If he needed something he couldn’t provide for himself, he chirped to Timmy in his soft, sad monkey voice. As always, Timmy heard with his heart as well as his ears, and as always, he understood. 

Donaldmonkey searched for RutKa every day -- online, through contacts and informants both at home and in Foreign Lands, on every street corner and in every alley. But The Charm of Hiding was a powerful one, and still RutKa could not be found. They were making the best of it, Timmy and he, but they both missed the way things used to be. Timmy missed hearing Donald sing in the shower and the sight of his wedding ring on his finger instead of tied to a piece of string around his neck. Donaldmonkey still missed tacos and his morning coffee, and he missed the pleased smile on Timmy’s face when he held a door open for him or helped him into his coat. They both missed sex, which was just impossible to manage for so very many reasons, and kissing, which Donaldmonkey would have been willing to try but Timmy avoided -- perhaps because he had caught Donaldmonkey snacking on Japanese beetles in the garden one day and thought it was unsanitary. 

But if they couldn’t make love, Donaldmonkey and his handsome Timmy still showed it in other ways. They still had each other, and Timmy still had The Gift of Understanding. They still held each other through the night, with Donaldmonkey nestled snug and secure in Timmy’s arms, stroking Timmy’s cheek with restless monkey fingers as Timmy petted his soft golden fur. They still slept safe and warm in their fixer-upper house with the big fireplace and the leaky roof. In spite of RutKa’s Great and Terrible Spell, they were still happy. Not with the circumstances, certainly, but always and forever with each other.

 

Though they could not find RutKa, the Bitter Deceiver watched them constantly, either spying on them through his Crystal Candy Dish or materializing above them as they slept, observing their happiness with ever-growing spite. How dare they still love each other after The Great and Terrible Spell he had cast? How dare Timmy hear mere monkey chatterings yet understand so much more? How dare Donaldmonkey still know warmth and comfort when he, a great magician, had none? How dare he!

And so the Bitter Deceiver’s jealousy and rage grew like a living thing, consuming his every waking thought, consuming him. Finally, quite mad with envy, he decided to do The Most Horrible Thing Imaginable. He decided to take The One Thing Donaldmonkey Loved Most away forever.

To be continued.

(Ha ha…just kidding!)

Very late one night, when Donaldmonkey was just coming home from a long evening spent perched on a fourth-story windowsill watching a bad man have sex with someone other than his boyfriend, he found Timmy in the living room in his blue-striped pajamas and navy blue robe, staring down the barrel of RutKa’s gun. 

“Eeeeeeeeeep!” Donaldmonkey cried, scurrying toward Timmy. “EeeeeepEeeeeepEeeeeeeeeeeeeep!”

“No, Donald!” Timmy shouted. “RutKa’s insane! He’s going to kill us both! You have to run!”

“Not both,” the Bitter Deceiver told him. “Just you. You understand too much, Saint Timmy the Good, but at the same time, not enough. You could have ended The Great and Terrible Spell anytime you wanted to, but you were too stupid to see the way. Instead, you were content to spend eternity with what, a monkey? Why should this animal know warmth and comfort and understanding and love when I have none? Eddie left me, me, the greatest and most powerful of magicians, yet you’ve stayed by the side of this filthy, chittering, chattering baboon. It’s not fair, and I’m not going to allow it any longer. Without you here to take care of him, he’ll be dead in a week. Or he’ll end up in a zoo, which is where a creature like this belongs. Who do you think will understand him then?”

“He’s not filthy!” Timmy protested. “He’s very clean! And he is not a baboon! He’s a Golden Lion Tamarin, a species of monkey indigenous to South America, which has….”

“SHUT UP!” The Deceiver was in a fearful rage, shaking so hard his gun wobbled. “I made him like this. I know exactly what he is. And I know what you are, too. A dead man!” With that, he drew a bead on Timmy’s forehead and cocked the gun.

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!” Donaldmonkey leaped toward Rutka, latching onto the barrel of the gun and knocking it out of his hand just as it went off. The revolver hit the floor and so did Donaldmonkey, who lay still.

“NO!” cried Timmy as he dropped to his knees beside Donaldmonkey, lifting the limp, furry body in his arms. “You can’t leave me, Donald! I love you too much!” Sobbing, he petted the soft golden fur, pressed his lips to the silent monkey mouth and kissed him gently. And in that instant, a Glorious Transformation took place. The room filled with a clear, bright light so intense it brought the Bitter Deceiver to his knees, burning away the darkness that was his power, leaving him limp, helpless, defeated. The lips beneath Timmy’s own stirred softly, returning the kiss. Blue eyes flew open, gazing up at him with warmth and love. And the body in his arms grew heavy and firm, taking on a more familiar form.

“Donald, you’re alive!” he cried, sobbing with joy now instead of grief. “You’re alive, and you’re you again!”

“I always was me, sweetheart,” Donald told him. “In spite of everything, you never doubted that. You listened to me with your heart as well as your ears, and you understood.”

“RutKa was right. I didn’t understand enough,” Timmy said. “It was the kiss that changed you back. If only I’d kissed you before! It just seemed….”

“Really weird and awkward to plant a big wet one on a hairy set of monkey lips, especially when I had Japanese beetles on my breath?” Donald asked, grinning.

“I…I suppose so. But the solution was so obvious, and I should have….”

“Your kiss came when I needed it the most. It gave me my body back, and the love that came with it gave me back my life. Don’t you ever apologize for loving me the way you do, Timmy. I won‘t stand for it.”

In the presence of all that light and love, The Bitter Deceiver's dark powers continued to diminish until they withered inside him, shrinking like the hard, dead thing that had once been his heart. He shrank with them, growing smaller and smaller until he was as tiny and insubstantial as a dust speck on the breeze. He drifted through a crack in the window, never to be seen or heard from again. 

So with RutKa finally out of their lives, what became of Saint Timmy the Good and Sir Donald the Brave? Well, the first thing Donald did, as you might imagine, was remove his wedding ring from the string around his neck and return it to his right hand where it belonged. Then he put on a robe and made martinis while Timmy tried his best to get monkey blood out of their living room rug. Deciding to give up and just call CarpetTech first thing in the morning, Timmy joined Donald on the couch for drinks and a cuddle, then led him to the bedroom, where they made love until dawn.

They spent a long and joyful lifetime together, these two good, brave men, and they never lost The Gift of Understanding that they shared. Eventually, they left the fixer-upper house with the big fireplace and the leaky roof and moved to a place where they didn’t have to catch rainwater in a pan as they lay in their bed. Donald’s business grew and they had more money, but occasionally times were still tight, and they worried whether they could afford to spend a week frolicking on the beach from time to time and still make sure all the bills were paid. 

But it really didn’t matter. Donald never stopped bringing Timmy flowers, and they never stopped dancing in the firelight. They slept all the nights of their lives away in each other’s arms, safe and warm, with Timmy petting Donald’s golden hair as Donald gently stroked Timmy’s cheek with restless fingers.

And they were happy.

**Author's Note:**

> ****Note**** As Timmy was trying to tell The Bitter Deceiver before he was so rudely interrupted, Golden Lion Tamarins (also known as Golden Marmosets) are squirrel-sized monkeys indigenous to South America. Their tails are very long but not prehensile, and, as Donaldmonkey was rather frustrated to discover, they lack opposable thumbs. Unless they are sounding out a warning or trying to gather their family around, their vocalizations primarily take the form of soft chirps. They are highly intelligent as well as quite social and industrious, and as a general rule, they tend to be monogamous.


End file.
